


Sunset

by AmericanPi



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff, Friendship, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6285235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmericanPi/pseuds/AmericanPi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger Federer, arguably the greatest male tennis player of all time, retires from professional tennis. He is surprised to find out that his friend and rival Rafael Nadal is very sad about it. When Roger goes to comfort Rafa, Rafa reveals a secret he's been hiding for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> I've been an avid writer for quite a few years now and just recently discovered AO3. After I got into tennis and its greatest (b)romance/rivalry (Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal) I had to write something Fedal. I'm glad that AO3 allows RPF, but I don't know a thing about this site so I'm just testing things out here. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this fluffy little thing. :)

Roger Federer slung his bag over his shoulder and sighed, feeling exhausted from head to toe but accomplished and fulfilled. The match was over. The tournament was over. Roger was a champion, and he would go down in history as the greatest tennis player of all time.

He had changed out of his athletic wear and into a comfortable long-sleeved collared shirt and suede jacket. After the action-packed day, during which Roger defeated his friend and rival Rafael Nadal in an exciting final match, claimed the U.S. Open trophy, and announced his retirement, he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his evening relaxing with his wife and four children. That is, if his children were in the mood for relaxing. They'd probably be bouncing all over the place with excitement over their father's big win. Roger smiled to himself.

He walked through the empty locker room, savoring the silence. The media were finally gone, though Roger reckoned that the world would be buzzing over the news of his retirement for some time now. He felt a twinge of regret that he would never play competitive tennis ever again, but in his heart he knew he made the right choice.

_I've achieved so much over these years,_  he thought proudly as his footsteps echoed through the halls. _But my time on the court is over. It's time for the next generation of stars to shine._

As Roger rounded a corner, he began to hear sobbing noises. _It's Rafa,_ Roger thought with unease, recognizing the source of the sobs. Roger felt as if something had stabbed his heart. Rafael Nadal had put up a very good fight, and it always hurt to lose. But on the court, Rafa seemed happy that Roger won the title. Maybe Rafa was concealing his feelings, or maybe he was crying because of something else altogether. Roger decided to check on his friend and make sure everything was alright.

Roger took a side route and quickened his pace, following the sound of Rafa's sobs. He came upon the long-haired Spaniard sitting against the wall of a hallway, his face buried in his hands.

"Oh, Rafa," Roger murmured sadly to himself. He approached his friend slowly, sat down next to him, and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Rafa," Roger said quietly, "it's me, Roger. You played very well."

Rafael looked up and wiped away his tears, smiling in embarrassment. "I should not cry," he said in a thick Spanish accent. "Lose is part of game and life."

"It's okay to cry sometimes," Roger assured his friend. "Rafa, are you alright? Is there anything I can do to help?"

Rafa ran his hand through his dark hair, sighed, and said, "Roger, I sound like child, but I will miss you very much. Play against you, is great feeling." He gazed sadly at Roger, and Roger was struck by the amount of emotion in Rafael's eyes. "Now you stop playing, what do I do?"

Roger looked down contemplatively. He was at a loss at how to help his friend, and this frustrated him to no end. He couldn't just un-retire - he would just have to retire again eventually, because there was no way he could play competitive tennis forever. Roger tried to put himself into Rafael's shoes. How would he feel in he were younger than Rafa, and Rafa retired, ending the greatest rivalry in the history of tennis? Roger sighed. It was hard enough for himself to say goodbye, and he couldn't imagine how Rafa must feel right now, having to continue playing tennis without his friend.

"But we _can_ still play tennis together," Roger murmured to himself. "As friends. Just for fun, near my house." He laughed out loud and smiled at his friend. "Rafa, did you really think I wouldn't invite you over to play tennis? Just because I've retired doesn't mean I can't play tennis with you for fun."

Rafael smiled and giggled, and pretty soon his giggles turned into laughs. "Roger, I'm so sorry," he said, placing his palm on his face. "What I was thinking, I do not know."

Roger laughed along with Rafa and patted his friend on the shoulder. "It's all right," he said. "So, Rafa, next Saturday morning, at my house? You up for that?"

" _Si,_ " Rafael said brightly. Mischievously he added, "You still owe me a racquet."

Roger raised his eyebrows. "A what?"

"A… racquet? Rattet? You know, the food?"

"Oh, a _raclette_ ," Roger said, laughing. "Tell you what, Rafa, next Saturday, after we play a little tennis, we can go hiking in the mountains. I'll bring a raclette, and we can share it. Just as I promised so long ago."

"Thank you. Next Saturday morning, I be at your house," Rafa said, his face glowing. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. "You a great friend, Roger. You care for me, I apper…" He smiled sheepishly. "What is that word?"

"Appreciate?" Roger suggested.

"Right, appreciate," Rafael said, nodding.

The two men sat in silence for a while, staring off into space. After some time Rafael stared at the ground, his face visibly red.

"Roger, I…" Rafael said quietly. As Roger turned towards Rafa in interest, Rafa sighed and shook his head. "I cannot say it. We have good friendship, how can I make it bad?"

"Rafa," Roger said slowly, after a few seconds' pause, "nothing you say will end our friendship. Unless you want to tell me that you hurt my family, or slept with Mirka -"

"Mirka!" Rafael exclaimed suddenly, crossing his arms. "Why you have to marry her?" Roger opened his mouth in surprise, but Rafael continued before Roger could speak. "Oh, I know," he said sadly. "Because I never tell you."

Roger tensed. He was caught off guard by his friend's sudden change in temperament, and felt curious and apprehensive. What was it that Rafa wanted to say that caused him so much distress? And what did Mirka have to do with this?

"Tell me what?" Roger said delicately, dreading his friend's answer.

Rafael looked down and blushed. "I… I love you, Roger."

The words felt like a dagger in Roger's heart, and the ensuing silence was deafening. But the only thing Roger felt was confusion. Didn't Rafa have a girlfriend?

"But what about Xisca?" Roger asked. He suddenly realized how blunt he sounded, but Rafa was already shaking his head.

"I never love her, Rogelio," Rafael said softly, gazing into Roger's eyes. Roger was struck by the amount of emotion in Rafa's eyes and looked away, unable to meet the Spaniard's gaze.

"I never love women," Rafael continued, looking down. "Even when I was young, I find I love men, never women. But I had to pretend. My agents say, you are athlete, no one can know you love men. So I never tell you I love you. But I love you, many years now."

"Oh, Rafa," Roger sighed, gazing sadly at his friend. "You're very brave, to finally tell me your feelings. I'm sorry you have to go through this, Rafa. Being gay shouldn't be a big deal. Society has expectations, but you shouldn't have to pretend to be someone you're not." He put a comforting hand on Rafael's shoulder, and the Spaniard looked up to meet his gaze. "And I'm sorry that I cannot return your feelings, because I do not love men. Not in that way."

"Oh," Rafael said softly, looking away. "I see." He hastily brushed away the tears that were forming in his eyes. "You love Mirka?" he asked sadly.

"I love her, and my children, very much," Roger answered, although he wished he could find the right words to comfort his friend. "I can't just leave them -"

"I never ask you to leave them," Rafael said hastily. "Good you love her. You happy, I happy." He forced a smile and sighed. "I am sorry I tell you. Things be very strange now, but I could not pretend any longer."

"Rafa," Roger said, stretching out his legs, "We can still be friends, the way we are now. And you don't have to pretend to be straight anymore, if it causes you pain. Look, Rafa, if you ever want to come out and stop pretending, I want you to know that I'll be here, like a good friend, to support you."

"Thank you, Roger," Rafael said, stretching out his legs as well. "I wish… no. I cannot change who you are, no. You happy with Mirka, is good. We still friends?"

"Definitely, Roger said, smiling warmly. "And Rafa, I hope you find someone. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

Rafael smiled. "We still play tennis Saturday?" he asked.

"Yes," Roger said, nodding. "And I still owe you a raclette."

-END-


End file.
